


The Life and Times of Angela Ziegler

by BookPirate



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, F/M, Slow Burn, ish
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-12-24
Packaged: 2021-02-16 12:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21508003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BookPirate/pseuds/BookPirate
Summary: Angela Ziegler joined Overwatch because she believed in the cause. Now, years later, she's asked to save the life of Genji Shimada. It sparks something she wasn't expecting.ORThe fall and aftermath of Overwatch, from Mercy's perspective.
Relationships: Genji Shimada/Angela "Mercy" Ziegler
Comments: 5
Kudos: 47





	1. How To Save A Life

**Author's Note:**

> FREE HONG KONG

The first time Angela sees Genji, he’s barely clinging to life, bleeding out on the stretcher Gabriel and Moira have rushed into the Overwatch medical facility. She’d gotten the heads up they were on their way to see her, and that it was an emergency, but she wasn’t expecting _this_.

“Who is this?” she asks, immediately snapping on gloves as she approaches, the body on the stretcher a mess of slashes and cuts. She can see half-torn off limbs and exposed bone.

“Genji Shimada,” Moira answers, almost absentmindedly as she tries to continue manipulating the man’s body so he’ll stay alive.

“You need to save him,” Gabriel continues. “We need him alive.”

Angela sucks in a breath, feeling for Genji’s pulse. She knows he’s alive, but she wants to see how close to death he is. And he is very, very close. “I don’t know if that’s possible.”

“Try.”

It’s the tone of voice that brought him to the head of Blackwatch. She sighs. “Follow me.”

She leads them into the operating room, preparing to page the various doctors she knows she’ll need help from, shouting for help from her skeleton crew. Dr. Stevens from cybernetics will need to be called, certainly. She can already tell Genji will lose at least three of his limbs. Maybe all four.

Her hand is stopped on its way to the pager on her belt, however, by Gabriel’s, who’s figured out what she’s about to do. “Not yet, Dr. Ziegler. We just need you to save his life.”

She’s confused. “He’ll lose limbs.”

“I know that. Worry about it later.”

She wants to page Dr. Stevens regardless, but she can’t disobey direct orders from Gabriel, even if he’s not technically her superior. “Fine.”

In the end, it’s 18 hours of surgery. So many of his veins and arteries needed to be reconstructed, and his heart has to be manually pumped by a machine Torbjorn had hooked up for her months ago until Dr. Stevens can fit him with an internal one. She preemptively removed the limbs that were damaged beyond reason, and managed to essentially glue his jaw together. It’s crude, but it’ll hold until Gabriel lets her call Dr. Stevens. She has no idea what he’s planning, but she’s sure she doesn’t want to know.

Gabriel is waiting for her once she leaves the surgical suite. “So?”

She’s exhausted and wants to sleep for about a day. “He’s alive.”

“Good. Let me know when he wakes up, will you? And get some sleep. You look like hell.”

She snorts. “Charming as ever, Gabriel. I’ll give you a call.”

His brain, by some miracle, was untouched, though the same couldn’t be said for his spinal cord. She has no idea how he’ll deal with the injuries once he wakes up, and what he’ll think of his new reality.

Unfortunately, there’s no real timetable for her to guess at how long it’ll be until he wakes up, since she’s never had to perform a surgery like that. All she can say with certainty is that the anesthesia should wear off in an hour, and that she will be sleeping until the nurse she put on duty, Adele, wakes her up.

Maybe two hours later she’s woken up by Adele, who's shouting something about the patient crashing. He needs to be resuscitated twice in the next three hours. She’s got him hooked up to so many of her other experimental machines Torbjorn has helped her build, thinking grimly that at least she’ll be able to test them.

Finally, nearly six hours later, she thinks they may be out of the danger zone, though it’s taken its toll on her. She does one last physical exam, however, to put her mind at ease.

He looks young in his sleep, she decides, even with the deep gashes across his face. She sits next to him in a chair pushed close to his bedside, testing reflexes as she drifts closer and closer to resting her head on the edge of his bed.

Maybe a five minute nap wouldn’t hurt before she goes back to her quarters.

The next thing she knows, a hoarse voice is waking her up. He appears to be up, and speaking Japanese, from what she can tell. His speech is slurred as well, probably due to the sheer amount of painkillers in his system, and possibly to his injuries.

She’s sure she looks like a mess as she jolts up, trying to surreptitiously wipe the bit of drool she can feel at the corner of her mouth as she meets the unfocused gaze of her patient. "Do you speak English?" This is going to be a mess if he doesn't.

"Yes." He swallows thickly. “Where am I?”

“Ah, I’m Dr. Angela Ziegler. How are you feeling?”

“I cannot see you. I cannot feel my body. And you didn't answer my question.”

This means Dr. Stevens will probably have to replace his optic nerves, doing a quick eye exam that confirms her fears. “I’m sorry, we’ve had to perform an extensive surgery. You’re at an Overwatch facility in Switzerland.”

“Why?”

“Unfortunately, I can’t answer that. Let me get someone who can, okay?”

She pages Gabriel once she steps out of the room, Genji’s eyes drifting shut once more. The commander of Blackwatch shows up at an almost superhuman pace, followed closely by Moira. The two are thick as thieves, so it’s not particularly surprising.

They’re in there for only about fifteen minutes before they come back in. Gabriel looks grimly satisfied as he addresses Angela, “You can page Stevens now. He’s asleep but ready for surgery, I assume.”

Angela would say something snarky if she wasn’t already running to the phone.

Dr. Stevens arrives, looking like she’s just woken up, clutching an armful of blueprints of previously used prosthetics. Angela takes point in deciding exactly what will go where, and how his limbs should function. They decide to break up the surgery so they have time to parcel out the finer details. The most important part is getting Genji’s body ready to be rebuilt.

Moira lurks in the background, silent until Dr. Stevens leaves to prep Genji for the surgery. Angela looks over the hastily drawn up schematics for the suit he’ll have to live in for at least three or four months until they can further assess his needs. An order will also have to be put in for his previous medical records. She’s used to the Irish doctor’s quiet observation, so she doesn’t jump when Moira finally addresses her.

“You did well, Dr. Ziegler.”

“Thank you, Dr. O’Deorain. I assume I can’t know what happened to Mr. Shimada.”

“It wasn’t part of an operation, so I don’t see why not.” Moira’s voice is calm and detached, as it usually is. “His brother Hanzo tried to kill him.”

Angela’s heart stops in her chest for a painful minute. “His own brother?”

“Makes you feel lucky to be an only child, doesn’t it?”

“I don’t know if that’s the term I would use.” She gnaws on her lip. “Poor boy.”

“And that is the difference between us, I suppose,” Moira sighs as she steps away from the wall she’s been resting against, “though it is unfortunate. I’ll come by later today, when I assume he’ll be awake.”

“I’ll keep you updated,” Angela murmurs as Moira leaves.

Six weeks later, Genji is outfitted with prosthetic limbs and a jaw, a new spine, and new optic nerves that have turned his pupils red. The only limb that did not need to be replaced is his left arm, and even that needs to have tubing through it to ensure blood flow while the tissue and muscle knit themselves back together. His torso and thighs have been spared for the most part, but he’s still horrifically scarred. Whatever had happened to him is the worst thing Angela’s ever seen. Knowing it was his own brother somehow makes it worse.

She doesn’t touch the subject with him, even though she’s officially his primary care doctor. Dr. Stevens is working with him in teaching him to use his new body parts, including the shuriken producer Torbjorn designed and Gabriel requested be built into his arm (which Angela is _not_ going to question no matter how much she wants to), but she still sees him daily to check in on his pain.

Actually, they tend to not speak at all, outside of her routine questions like, “How’s the pain?” and “Can you flex for me?”. He gives her short and to-the-point answers, elaborating on them when she requires further information but never offering more than necessary. She finds herself thinking about him even while with other patients, wondering about what his life has been like, and what plans Gabriel may have with him.

It continues like this for another three or four weeks, until Gabriel calls a meeting with her and Dr. Stevens. “What’s the update on Shimada?”

Dr. Stevens shares a look with Angela before turning to the Blackwatch Commander. “He’s outperforming the tests I’ve set up for him and moving with a fluidity I would’ve expected to see months from now. Of course, I would like to discuss possibilities for a new suit with Lindholm to fix some of the issues I’ve found -”

“Issues?” Gabriel interrupts. “What kind of issues?”

“Things that could be streamlined. The tubing in his left arm, for example.”

“But nothing that would be a hindrance to him in the field?”

Dr. Stevens looks taken aback, which is just how Angela feels. “No, nothing at all.”

“And you, Dr. Ziegler?”

“I don’t think he should go out into the field,” she answers immediately.

Gabriel raises an eyebrow at her. “Why?”

She doesn’t really have a reason, other than the fact that he’s only about three or four months out from his brother essentially killing him. “He’s still healing.”

“I thought you said he was perfectly healthy during his last check-up.”

“Yes but -”

“But nothing, Doctor. If you don’t have a good reason, he’s going out into the field on the next mission.”

She bites her tongue, even if she would love to continue to argue the point. Previous experience, however, lets her know it’s a lost cause.

She still wants to snap her clipboard in half.

Her bad mood must be noticeable, because her subordinates and coworkers seem to leave her alone for the most part, when she’s usually overrun with requests. She tries to keep it suppressed when she sees the few patients she has, but one of them manages to pick up on it.

“Are you feeling okay, Dr. Ziegler?”

Genji’s smooth voice surprises her. He’s never volunteered anything before. She’s a little flustered, but manages to reply evenly. “Yes, of course, Genji. Why do you ask?”

“You seem,” he pauses, as if looking for the word, “tense.”

“Thank you for your concern, Genji, but I’m fine, really.”

Her smile is probably not as genuine as it could be, but more genuine than it would have been before he asked. He seems content with it, and focuses his red eyes away from her face and back on the wall in front of him.

The rest of the check-up is quiet, as is usual, but something has changed. His shoulders are more relaxed, and his jaw isn’t clenched. She wonders if it’s been like that for a while, and she’s just noticing.

But she knows she pays more attention to him than her other patients. He intrigues her, with his stoic demeanor and willingness to suffer without complaint. She knows it’s dangerous waters she’s treading, paying him this much attention, but she’s willing to tread them all the same.


	2. Retribution

“Jesse.” Angela manages to snag the young Blackwatch operative in the hallway after her bi-weekly meeting with Jack and Ana.

He looks startled as she tugs him to the side. “Yes’m?”

“I wanted to ask you a question. I hope you could keep it between us.”

His eyebrows knit together. “Of course, Dr. Ziegler.”

She still hesitates before asking, “How is Genji doing?”

A snort of laughter escapes him, and his brow clears. “The cyborg is doing fine, Doc.”

She gnaws on her lip. “No problems or complications?”

“No, he’s fitting right in. Well, as much as you can fit in with Reyes and O’Deorain anyway. Quiet and efficient, exactly what we need.”

“Okay.” Something in her chest loosens. “Thank you, Jesse.”

He tips his hat at her with a twinkle in his eye. “Now, should I be offended you don’t ask anyone about me?”

She shakes her head at him, a laugh escaping her. “You never know. I might.”

He chuckles as he walks away. “See you later, Doc.”

Ever since Genji has become an active agent with Blackwatch, she’s seen less and less of him. In between missions, he prefers to keep to himself, so she only sees him when the team comes back to get patched up, and the occasional check-up.

She will say that he'll make small talk with her now. Not a lot, but still more than they used to chat. She even found out how much he misses Japanese onigiri, which is a fact she treasures, as simple as it is.

“Careful, Angela,” she warns herself in the mirror, when she gets back to her quarters for the night. “This is thin ice.”

There are so many oaths she’s taken that she’s toeing the line of, just having these thoughts. But she comforts herself by reassuring herself she won’t actually cross the line. And Genji has never been anything except polite with her.

It’s all going to be fine.

And it is, mostly. Until Gérard gets injured.

Gérard Lacroix, whose wife must be worried sick, not being able to see her husband. He’s flown to Overwatch after the building in Rome explodes, in better shape than Genji was but still in a terrible state. Bruised and broken, the man who she knows as someone full of laughter and quick wit is silent and still in his bed under her watch. But she makes sure he’ll go back to being the man she knows he is. Thankfully, Genji has proven the machines she uses work, so she's confident when she declares him stable.

It’s said Gabriel pulled him from the building himself, and she believes it, as Gabriel refuses to leave his bedside until she and Dr. Rosenberg manage to convince him Gérard will be fine. And then she doesn’t see Gabriel for a long time.

She’s not surprised.

Overwatch is up in arms over the attack in Rome, the lives lost, and there’s a large divide over what should be done about it, with Jack on one side, promising to do things “the right way”, and Gabriel, wanting revenge, on the other.

She doesn’t try and pretend she’s worth more than she actually is. Her duties include being in charge of the medical wing of Overwatch, and a combat medic when needed. The conversations that are held behind big doors don’t concern her, and she finds it useless to worry. She trusts Jack to make the right decision in the end.

But in the end, Jack’s decision doesn’t matter much. The official investigation is open, an agreement with the Italian government struck, but Gabriel isn’t happy. The only reason she knows that is because she runs into Jesse in the hallway, where he’s carrying his go-bag late one night.

“Jesse?” she asks, a little startled when they almost physically collide around a corner. “Where are you going?”

“Doc!” He gives her a grin that’s not quite as easy as it always seems to be. “What are you doing still up?”

She frowns and considers him. “I believe I asked you first, McCree.”

He sighs. “I’m under orders not to talk.”

“But -” she stops for a moment and considers who she’s talking to. Something clicks in her head. “You’re going after Talon, aren’t you?”

“You didn’t hear it from me,” he tells her, stressing his words. “No one’s supposed to know.”

She doesn’t really care. “Everyone is going? All four of you?”

“Yes, but -”

The rest of the sentence is lost to her as she turns around and sprints to the corridor where Genji’s room is. She knows he's been on missions before, many of them dangerous, but this time, going on an unsanctioned mission under a man whom she _knows_ is emotionally compromised -

This worries her like she's never been worried before.

By some miracle, she catches him just as he’s packing his final things into his small bag, connector wires and supplies in case one of the tubes in his arm burst. Things she’s gone over with him a hundred times before, to make sure he knows how to take care of himself.

“Genji. Is it true?”

He doesn’t ask her how she knows, just glances at her as he zips his bag up. “Yes.”

“How long?”

“I don’t know.” He turns to her, bag slung over his shoulder. “You’ll know when we come back, Dr. Ziegler.”

He starts walking past her, but she catches his elbow before he can leave the room. The metal is cool under her fingers, synthetic skin and muscle knitted together underneath it. She knows his body better than her own, at this point. “Genji, please, be careful,” she pleads, trying to keep the desperation out of her voice.

His red eyes gleam as they meet hers, and she thinks she sees them soften a little. “I’ll come back. I promise.”

She still can’t help but worry, though his words ring in her ears for the month they’re gone. Any scrap of news she clings to, her eyes constantly going to wherever Jack and Ana are, even in the middle of the cafeteria.

They’re not eating in the hall itself, but even their walk through to grab some food has Angela losing track of the conversation between Reinhardt and Torbjorn. She can’t take her eyes away from the stress in their frames as they bend their heads together to talk so they won’t be overheard.

“Angela?”

“Hm?” She turns back to the table to see both men looking at her with concern. “What did I miss?”

“We were speaking of the suit I’m working on for you,” Torbjorn tells her. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine, sorry.”

“I know, we’re all worried about them, too,” Reinhardt pats her shoulder. “But you said it yourself, Gérard will be back to work in no time.”

“You are right, Reinhardt, as usual.”

She gives him a smile that doesn’t feel quite right on her face, but he takes her word and soon the conversation move on to other topics. She makes a concentrated effort to remain present so her friends aren’t suspicious, but she can’t help her thoughts occasionally going back to the Blackwatch team in Italy. Even as Gérard makes a full recovery.

The nights and days while Genji is gone seem to both pass by both excruciatingly slow and in a blur. She reasons with herself that she would know if they were dead. She may not hold any real power in the organization, but she’s well trusted, and that is certainly something Jack would tell her.

There isn’t really any fanfare when the Blackwatch team gets back. She doesn’t even know, until Genji finds her in her room, going over the schematics for her new wings and staff.

She’s lost track of the time, as she usually does, erasing details and adding new ones, putting question marks next to parts she doesn’t understand as she sips her now-cool coffee. Which almost goes everywhere as Genji leans over her. “What are you working on, Dr. Ziegler?”

“ _Mein Gott_!” She feels like she jumps about a million miles out of her skin as she looks up to see him looking at the blueprints curiously. “When did you get back?”

“About an hour and a half ago,” he tells her, moving the papers on her desk so he can see better. “Are these new?”

“Yes,” she says, a little distractedly. She has so many questions going through her head, but suppresses most of them. So many of them will probably scare him off or shut him down, so she asks the only one she really feels like she needs to know. “How did the mission go?”

He sets the piece of paper down and decisively grabs a chair from her small table, picking it up as if it weighs nothing and placing it next to her desk, close enough to touch. After sitting down, he meets her gaze. “He’s dead.”

She blinks in surprise, and then immediately starts to get out of her chair. “Is everyone okay? Who’s hurt? Do they -”

The corners of his lips quirk up. “The team is all unharmed, Doctor.”

She sits back down cautiously. “Then how did it -”

“Reyes killed Bartalotti,” he interrupts her bluntly, “shot him point-blank in the face.”

“But -”

“I saw it. He’s in with Commander Morrison, Amari, and Lacroix right now.”

“Oh.” She sits back in her chair, a little dazed. “So, not good.”

“It was what needed to be done,” he says, looking back at her desk. “I’m sure it’ll be all over the news in a few hours.”

“What a nightmare,” she says, almost more to herself than him.

“For Overwatch, yes.” He pauses before looking up at her again. “Maybe you could explain to me how these wings will work?”

She does so gladly, happy to get her mind off of whatever mess Overwatch has gotten itself into, and to also spend more time with one of her favorite people. It helps that he seems genuinely interested as well. He’s still quiet, like she’s expected, but he also asks questions and engages in the conversation more than she would’ve guessed.

Maybe he missed her, too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm gonna try and update this everyday but I also work nights and am currently super sick so.
> 
> I'm doing my best!!!!!


	3. London Calling

Things seem to continue going downhill from there, at least for the agency. When the incident in Venice reaches international news, the outcry for the shutdown of Overwatch is overwhelming. Funding gets slashed left and right, and she has to say goodbye to many coworkers in the process. The funds for the medical facility don’t get touched, but almost all Blackwatch operations have come to a halt, under suspension, which is both good and bad, as it turns out.

Gabriel stalks the halls in a perpetual bad mood, Moira never very far away. Jesse jumps at the chance to go on missions without them, and Genji, well.

She’s been spending more time with him, and she would say they’re friends now. But he doesn’t do well with nothing to do. He pushes himself and tests the limits of his body when training new recruits, especially Lena Oxton, and his eyes look a little haunted, as if his nightmares are catching up to him.

One of the reasons they’re friends, she thinks, is because neither of them seem to sleep much. They stay up, sometimes in silence as she works on her paperwork and he reads books he gets from someplace she’s not sure of. Other times she has him help her test new machinery out. The one constant, however, is that she always gives him some of her coffee. She wonders if he knows how much that means to her.

She’d be more worried about it if she hadn’t passed off his case to Dr. Rosenberg. She comes up with the excuse that she’s being pushed into the field more and more frequently, with the dwindling Overwatch numbers, and doesn’t have time to see many more patients one-on-one. Both Rosenberg and Genji accepted this without complaint, and if anyone else suspects something, no one has said anything to her.

Actually, she’s not sure anyone even  _ knows  _ of her friendship with Genji, as they seem to only spend time together at night when the facility around them is quiet. But she’s not complaining. She enjoys the quiet more with him there.

Especially because there is increasingly less and less of it, with the new waves of omnic attacks.

She stands with Torbjorn, her hand gripping his shoulder, as they watch the flames from London burn on the TV screens. He looks up at her, a gruff look on his face. One that she takes to mean that the world is ending, and there’s nothing they can do.

His face stays with her as she helps Winston run tests on Lena, who seems to get herself “unstuck in time”, in her unofficial wording.

She watches Genji try and pin the young cadet down, time and time again, as Lena blinks in and out of sight, manipulating time with the chronal accelerator Winston designed. Angela, who had thought helping Lena impossible after her disappearance in the Slipstream, has to admit she nor anyone else would’ve ever thought such a thing possible.

“Have I complimented you yet today, Winston? On the chronal accelerator?” she asks, breaking the silence in the observation room.

Winston startles next to her, turning around from his machine. “No, but you don’t have to. I just wanted -”

“I do,” she tells him, firmly. She can tell he still feels insecure, and unsure if he really belongs amongst the scientists at Overwatch. She needs to tell him he does. “You’re brilliant.”

She doesn’t know if gorillas can blush, but she thinks she might see a hint of one on his face as he smiles at her. “Thank you, Doctor.”

She smiles back at him, but the moment is soon broken by Jack striding in, asking for an update on the situation. After watching Lena manages to get Genji in the back, Angela turns to him. “Has there been any update on the situation in London, Commander?”

“Nothing good.” Jack frowns as he continues to watch Lena and Genji. “The Prime Minister has expressly forbidden us from intervening.”

“He’s a fool, then,” she snaps, causing Winston and Jack to both look at her. The pause in typing means that their lab assistant, David, has also stopped what he’s doing to listen, but she can’t stop herself. “How many thousands of people in King’s Row are in need of medical aid? What happens when Null Sector takes more of the city? It’ll be Egypt all over again, and don’t have the resources to deal with another humanitarian crisis. This is what Overwatch was  _ made for _ . Instead of sitting on the sidelines, we could be saving lives.”

Jack frowns as he turns away. “I don’t disagree, Doctor, but my hands are tied.”

“Well, that’s not good enough, Jack. And a lot of people are going to die.”

“I know, Dr. Ziegler.” He doesn’t look back as he walks away. “Tell Oxton I’d like to speak with her when she’s finished here.”

She doesn’t realize how upset she really is about the whole situation until after he’s left, with Winston and David still staring at her.

“Please excuse me,” she murmurs, all but fleeing the room before her colleagues can see the red rising in her face.

Looking at her watch, she decides she can spare 15 minutes out of her day, fleeing to her rooms to calm herself down. The walk there helps, as does the water she splashes in her face. And yet, every time she closes her eyes, she sees the fire in London burning, reminding her of Egypt, of Haiti. Of all the places she’s been to try and ease people’s suffering.

But it’s been a while since she’s been out there, doing that kind of work. She feels more like a soldier now, instead of a doctor.

“How are you doing, Dr. Ziegler?” a quiet voice interrupts her thoughts from the doorway.

She turns around, face still slightly damp. Genji is regarding her carefully. She sighs. “It’s just been a long day.”

He doesn’t look like he believes her, but lets it go all the same. “What do you think about Oxton?”

She grabs onto the change in topic gratefully, forcing herself to put the turmoil in her mind to rest, at least for a little bit.

They manage to have a nice lunch together, too, almost unheard of, before they have to go back to work.

It's when she's looking over more of the cadet's test results that Jack finds her.

“Dr. Ziegler.”

Jack’s voice has her turning around from her work station. “Yes, Commander?”

“You leave in 30 with Lindholm, Wilheim, and Cadet Oxton. Make sure you’re ready.”

“Where to?”

She knows she’s not imagining the slight upturn of the corner of his mouth. “London. It might not be entirely above board, but Cadet Oxton made me realize a few truths. She’s very persuasive.” He pauses. “Keep an eye on her, would you?”

“Of course.” She’s stuck on part of what he’s told her. “What truths?”

But he’s already walking away. “30 minutes, Doctor. Don’t be late.”

She’s almost giddy as she gets dressed in her combat medic uniform, and runs a quick test run on her staff and wings. They’re operating perfectly, as is her pistol she keeps tucked at her side.

Torbjorn asks her for some help locking up the tools they’re taking with them, and that’s where Genji finds her.

“Dr. Ziegler.”

She turns around with a smile on her face. “Genji.”

“I heard you’re leaving for London.”

She raises an eyebrow at him. “I didn’t think anyone was supposed to know.”

“McCree has a big mouth.” He shrugs. “I wanted to wish you luck, and to tell you to stay safe.”

Her smile widens as she remembers their conversation all those months ago. “I will. Thank you.”

He nods his head and walks away without another word.

She allows herself to smile for a moment before putting herself in the combat medic mindset. She’s all business by the time she meets Reinhardt and Torbjorn on the tarmac.

“Only just the three of us, huh? Just like the old days,” Torbjorn greets her with. “Jack must be feeling nostalgic.”

“We’re the old ones these days, my friend,” Reinhardt says as she hides a smile.

“The commander’s been under a lot of stress lately. His decision making has been,” she pauses as she tries to find a charitable word, “interesting.”

“Any idea what changed his mind?”

She meets Reinhardt’s gaze, echoing Jack’s words, “A fresh perspective.”

“Well, what are we waiting for?” Torbjorn demands, a little gruffly. She thinks he might be a little nervous about being out in the field after so long.

As if on cue, Lena zips into view. “Cadet Oxton, reporting for duty!”

Torbjorn looks even more gruff, if possible. Angela knows it’s a sticking point with him that he couldn’t figure out how to help her. “Hmph. Looks like the calvary’s here.”

Lena looks a little confused. “My name’s Oxton.”

“Good for you. I’ll be on the ship.”

Reinhardt meets Angela’s eyes with an amused look, before following Torbjorn to supervise the loading of the cargo they’re packing. She bites the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.

Lena turns to Angela. “What’s his problem?”

“I wouldn’t take it personally. He’s always like that,” she tells the younger girl, before changing the subject. “The commander told me to keep an eye on you. We’ve invested a great deal in your career, after all.” She remembers the look on Jack’s face as he told her to get ready. “I think he likes you.”

“Me?” Lena’s face is shocked.

Angela smiles. “He said you were very persuasive.” She turns and walks towards the ship. “There’s a lot of people depending on us, Lena. Just call for help if you need me.”

She settles across from Torbjorn, who doesn’t meet her gaze. “Should’ve known we would’ve been bringing the cadet.”

“It wouldn’t hurt you to try and be nice, Torbjorn,” she scolds him lightheartedly. “You were young once, too, you know.”

He snorts. “A lifetime ago, maybe.”

The mission goes about as well as it can, and they save many lives, but England is still not happy. The outcry to shut down Overwatch is at an all time high, and more and more restrictions on their actions have been imposed.

She doesn’t leave the headquarters much, anymore.

Not that that’s necessarily a problem. She and Torbjorn have begun working on a new suit for her, and a better one for Genji. She would’ve thought Genji would want to be a part of the process in designing it, but he doesn’t seem interested.

“I trust you,” is the only thing he tells her, before going back to his book.

It’s frustrating, not being able to have him talk to her candidly, but she doesn’t want to push him. She doesn’t want to lose one of her closest friends.

Part of their closeness is of being quiet together, and she does enjoy it. She just also wishes she knew what he was thinking in those quiet moments. Occasionally, she does get glimpses.

“Lacroix’s wife has been kidnapped.”

She drops her pencil. “What?”

Genji steps into the room, shutting the door behind him. “Lacroix’s wife was taken, by Talon.”

She remembers meeting the quiet, refined woman once or twice. The way her eyes never seemed to stray far from her husband. “When?”

“An hour ago. We’re looking for her. I just wanted to tell you I won’t be able to see you tonight.” His voice is smooth. “We’re going to kill whoever took her.”

Her eyes widen in surprise. “But -”

“Sometimes,” he says slowly, “some people deserve to die. It’s a necessary evil, and we have to ensure they don’t take her again.”

Something twists in her heart when she hears that, but she’d always known he was okay with killing on a level she was not. “I hope you find her.”

“Thank you.”

Amélie Lacroix is discovered a month later, and Angela is one of the doctors that checks her out. Amélie seems physically fine, but there’s something off about her. Her gaze is unfocused, and she seems almost emotionless.

“Gérard, I really don’t think she’s ready to be taken home yet,” she tells the man, when he asks.

He frowns. “Why?”

“She’s,” she pauses, “there’s something wrong. Some trauma.”

“Perhaps she would do better in her own home. Do you have any medical reason to keep her?”

“No, but -”

“It’ll be fine, Dr. Ziegler. Don’t worry.”

It’s not fine, and they find Gérard’s body in his sleep only days later.

The funeral is a somber affair. Almost every Overwatch agent is there, dressed in black. Jack has a troubled frown on his face throughout the whole thing, but she doesn’t get the chance to talk to him.

Gabriel grabs her at the reception afterwards. “Dr. Ziegler.”

“Yes, Gabriel?”

“Can you write me a report on how your examination of Amélie Lacroix? And have it on my desk tomorrow?”

She blinks at him in confusion. “What?”

“I can’t explain, just get it done.”

She frowns at his retreating back, and even further when he rejoins Moira. The rumor around headquarters was that Talon finally managed to kill Gérard, and claim his wife again. It had sounded as plausible as anything else. Now, with the way Gabriel is behaving, she thinks there might be another explanation.

It presses on her mind for a day or two before she cracks and asks Genji. She’s hoping he’ll have some insight, since he is, or was, part of Blackwatch. Their status is still up in the air.

“Genji, why did Gabriel want a report on Amélie Lacroix?”

His eyes flick over to her from where he’s looking at the schematics for her new suit. “I thought he told you.”

“He never tells me anything.”

He hums, before sitting back in his chair. “Reyes thinks she killed him.”

Nothing he could have said would’ve shocked her more. “What? Why?”

“There were no signs of a break-in, or a struggle.”

She feels weak, thinks of the warning bells she didn't listen to. “So, it’s my fault.”

“ _No_.” His voice is strong, much stronger than she’s heard it before. She looks to him with wide eyes, and his gaze is intense as it meets hers. “It’s not your fault, Dr. Ziegler.” He pauses. “Angela. Don’t think so.”

She's a little shocked, but she finally remembers to speak. “If you really believe that, I’ll try.”

“I do.” He steals her coffee cup for a sip. “Now, please continue showing me how your new wings will work.”

She’s never felt more for him.


	4. I Can't Think of Right Words to Say

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first, apologies for the delay! it's been a wild month. i have like two or three more chapters that i should be dropping over the next week depending on work. and then maybe an epilogue? idk how loved up i want them to be at the end of this so, i guess we'll see!!

Every time she thinks she's gotten used to life at Overwatch, something changes.

“I’ve been pushed out of combat operations,” Reinhardt growls, slamming his tray on the table next to Angela’s.

She looks up, fork halfway to her mouth. “What?”

“Mandatory retirement.” He sits next to her, pushing the food around on his plate with a frown.

The pasta on her fork falls back to the table. “Why?”

“Fifty-five, they said,” he avoids her eyes, “is the age of retirement for Overwatch.”

“But -”

“They thanked me for my service, but the Director was firm. I can help with supervision, but not combat operations.”

She doesn’t quite know what to say. He’s clearly brokenhearted, but she also knows his body hasn’t been bouncing back quite as fast as it used to. He still complains about his knee, from when he twisted it in London almost a year ago.

She pushes the food around on her plate, too, and tries to provide comfort by resting her shoulder against his.

Some of the tension leaves his frame, until Torbjorn comes storming up to them.

“Is it true?” he all but shouts.

“Torbjorn -” She tries to quiet him down, is painfully aware of just how full the cafeteria is, but it’s no use.

“Overwatch is pushing you out!” Torbjorn slams his mechanical arm on the very metal table, causing a loud clang.

“Torbjorn!” she hisses, as Reinhardt’s shoulders tighten.

“After everything he’s done for them -” Torbjorn continues, turning to her.

People are starting to turn and stare now, and she spots familiar faces in the crowd. Echo and Sojourn actually look like they’re going to approach, so she makes a quick decision, and manages to slap her hand over Torbjorn’s mouth and pull him out of the room. Given how short he is, she figures it'll be the fastest approach.

Reinhardt follows them rather quickly, into the empty corridor. “My friend, I appreciate your outrage, but I must listen to the orders I am given.”

Torbjorn finally swats Angela’s hand away, glaring at her before turning back to Reinhardt. “After everything you’ve done?”

Reinhardt’s smile doesn’t reach his eyes, but it’s there all the same. “I may not be on the front lines anymore, but that doesn’t mean I’ve given up the cause.”

Torbjorn continues to grumble about it for the rest of the day, and she can see how it wears on Reinhardt. She offers no words, just a hand on his shoulder and a smile as their friend continues to rant.

His smile seems more genuine when she walks away.

She understands Overwatch’s position, but she also regrets how abruptly the higher-ups have made this decision. She wonders who broke the news, and if Jack and Ana were there. But she doesn’t want to press Reinhardt for information that he obviously doesn’t want to dwell on right now.

“What’s wrong, Angela?”

Genji doesn’t take her by surprise much anymore, but she’s having trouble getting Reinhardt’s face out of her head. “Sorry, Genji, I was thinking.”

“Can I ask about what?”

She watches him for a moment, as he starts making a fresh pot of coffee. It strikes her for a moment, how comfortably he moves around her room now, and how freely he speaks in front of her. He's still silent around almost everyone else. “Reinhardt was told he had to retire from combat operations today.”

“And this troubles you?

She sighs and sits back in her chair. “That’s the difficult part. I understand why we have mandatory retirement from combat, but this is  _ Reinhardt _ . He’s a huge asset in the field, and I don’t know how he’s going to handle being taken out of it.”

“Fighting does give one a sense of purpose.” Genji frowns a little as he pours her some of the fresh coffee. “It becomes who you are.”

Her voice is quiet as she responds, “Is that who you are, Genji?”

His red eyes gleam in the dim lights of her room. “Will it worry you if I say yes?”

“No,” she lies.

He doesn’t quite look like he believes her, but doesn’t press it. “When will your new suit be done?”

“ _ Our  _ new suits should be done next week. Aren’t you excited, too?”

“Perhaps.” The corners of his mouth turn up. “It will take some getting used to, I think.”

“We can get used to them together, if you’d like,” she offers.

That brings a full smile from his face. “I would be honored.”

The suits are beautiful and streamlined, much better than the exposure they were subjected to previously. It fits like a glove when she puts it on, and she can't help but admire the way her wings respond to her movements. It's like Christmas has come early.

Getting to test the limits of her new suit with him is exhilarating, as well. It takes a little while to get used to his own style of combat, and how her new wings take her further and faster. She ends up crashing into him a few times before she really gets a handle on it.

“I’m so sorry!” she says, horrified, as she sends them both flying into a wall. It’s the first time she’s ever touched him so bodily.

To her surprise, he starts laughing. “It seems we have a lot of work to do.”

She hopes he takes the red in her cheeks for exertion.

They do find a rhythm after a few months, however. Where they fight against the training bots easily and efficiently. He’s even taken to just raising his hand up when he needs to be lifted out, knowing she’s on her way to him.

It feels rejuvenating, and she approaches her work with new fervor. She even looks forward to getting to test her suit out in the field.

Her chance to do so comes sooner rather than later. Jack summons her to his office, where Lena, Winston, Genji, and Sojourn are already waiting. Genji gives her a small nod as she closes the door behind her.

“Dr. Ziegler,” Jack greets her. “Now that you’re all here, I’m going to brief you on your mission. The four of you will be transported to Havana, where Talon operative Maximillien is reported to be hiding out. Sojourn will be running the operation, so listen to her. She has more details. Our hope is to capture Maximillien and have him lead us to Doomfist.”

Lena does a salute. “Yes, sir!”

Angela suppresses a grin. “And when do we leave, Commander?”

“Tomorrow at 0800 hours. Sojourn will have your files ready for you then. Good luck, team.”

Sojourn stays behind to talk with Jack while the rest of them file out of the room. Angela smiles as she watches Winston and Lena excitedly chatting about going to Havana, while Genji falls into step with her.

“It seems we will finally be able to put our suits to the test,” he says quietly.

“In the real world, at least.” She glances at him out of the corner of her eye. “I wonder why they have us going after the Talon accountant.”

“He is the means to an end,” he replies. “Easier to get at than Doomfist himself, and yet still crucial to the organization. I think he is but a piece in the game we’re playing.”

“I think you may be right.” Doomfist has been a thorn in their side for a while, and it makes sense that Jack would think of switching tactics to remove him.

They stay up late that night, like they usually do, except this time it’s to make sure their equipment is clean and their suits are in working order. She even checks on Lena’s and Winston’s, too, just because she feels almost giddy with nerves. She can’t remember the last time she was so excited to be in the field.

If Genji notices, he doesn’t say anything, and only continues to steal sips of her coffee in a comfortable silence.

The mission seems straight forward enough, when they meet up with everyone the next morning. Genji was right; Overwatch isn’t particularly interested in Maximillien, but they are interested in what information he might have. Their instructions are to capture him alive, so they can get him to tell them where Doomfist might be. It seems almost simple.

And it is. There are a few minor hiccups where she panics briefly, but it ends with Genji’s blade at Maximillien’s throat and her voice laced with a threat. They transport him back to headquarters without incident, and Jack looks pretty happy with them. It’s a good mission.

Maximillien gives them information that Doomfist is set to be in Singapore in a few months, and Jack and Ana snap into planning-mode almost immediately. Angela’s not entirely sure what goes on behind their closed doors, but she knows there’s a lot riding on this mission.

Overwatch is still vilified in the press, and they’re still being watched by the U.N. Blackwatch is all but disbanded, Moira having disappeared into the Research division of the organization, and Gabe stalking around doing, well, something. McCree has taken a page out of Genji’s book, and tags along on missions when requested.

But it’s still not enough, and she worries.

In the end, Lena, Winston, and Genji are set to go to Singapore, but Jack requests Angela to stay behind.

“It’s time for team physicals,” he tells her, once she’s met him in his office.

She frowns. “What about Dr. Gubbles?”

“He’s left, Dr. Ziegler.” He sighs as he sits back in his chair. “You are now, officially, the highest ranking medical officer we have.”

She can’t help it when both of her eyebrows shoot up towards her hairline. “As of when?”

“A few months.” His grin is humorless. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, Doctor, but we’re not exactly in the glory days anymore.”

“No, I wouldn’t say we are.” She nods once, decisively. “I’ll send out the notification tomorrow.”

“Oxton and Shimada can do it when they get back,” he tells her before she leaves. “Even with the dwindling numbers, it’ll still take awhile to get through everyone else.”

“Of course, Commander.”

Part of her is disappointed to not join the others, but a larger part of her recognizes that she's a doctor first, combat operative second. Thinking back, she realizes she _did_ know many of her colleagues had left, but didn't know exactly how many. There must still be doctors around, but at least five would've had to left for her to assume seniority. It's not a good omen for the organization.

Genji finds her later that night, as he always does. She’s in the middle of making piles of personnel files, trying to decide who needs to be seen first. 

“So, you won’t be joining us on our trip to Singapore,” he says, before he sits down.

She’s so used to it she doesn’t even flinch. “Yes, the Commander asked me to stay behind and do physical evaluations for our agents.”

He hums, and, after a moment of hesitation, reaches for one of the stacks. She trusts him to not look into the files, and she has a feeling he’s looking for someone specific.

Without a word, she slips his folder from the bottom of another pile, and hands it to him.

His voice is quieter than usual. “Thank you.”

There’s tension in his shoulders, and she finds herself holding her breath. She doesn’t know if he’s ever looked at his medical file before, even though he has access to it.

Forcing herself to focus on the work in front of her, she begins penciling in the tentative appointments, trying to balance availability with order or importance. However, the occasional turning of a page prevents her from forgetting completely what’s going on.

He takes his time with the file, and she doesn’t want to rush him. Eventually, she gets up for more coffee, making sure to exchange her normal-sized mug for a larger one, because she knows he’ll have some when he’s finished reading.

She’s a little surprised to see the file in front of him, his arms crossed as he stares thoughtfully down at the table.

“Coffee?” she offers, unsure what else to say as she takes her seat again.

He almost absentmindedly takes the cup from her, wordlessly.

His face is giving nothing away, with his eyes downcast and lips in a thin line. She won’t press him to talk about what he’s thinking, but she does begin to move the folder back where it should be.

Before she can, however, his hand shoots out and grabs her wrist, preventing the movement. She flinches a little at the sudden movement and the strength of his fingers, causing him to loosen his grip. “My apologies, Angela. It was,” he pauses, “I don’t know what I was expecting.”

“No, I should’ve warned you, or,” she sighs, “or something. I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need for you to be sorry.” He releases her hand and sets her coffee down. “You saved my life.”

She flushes a little, unsure of what to say. The air in room is different now, somehow. She feels like she’s suffocating and doesn’t know why. “Genji, I -”

“I should get ready. We leave for Singapore in the morning.” He’s up and at the door before she can even process what’s happening. “I’ll see you when I get back.”

A little dazed, she looks at the door long after it’s closed, trying to understand why things shifted so suddenly. A quick flip through his medical file tells her there’s nothing surprising in it, no notes she made that alluded to her, well, her feelings for him. The jargon is a little difficult to understand if you’re not a medical professional, but there shouldn’t have been anything shocking to him in it.

She sets the file down with a sigh, and hopes the mood that overtook him won’t be there when he returns.


	5. The End of the World as We Know It

She hears about the success of the mission before they get back. There are cheers in the hallway when the news is broken that Doomfist has been taken into custody. A mixture of new and old faces break out into grins as people embrace each other left and right. She manages to duck and weave all the way to the unused office she knows Jack sometimes hides out in, when he doesn’t want people to bother him. She has a feeling he’ll be there.

And she’s right. Ana and Jack have their heads bent together over a tablet, looking grimly at what is most definitely a briefing on the mission. They both look up after she shuts the door behind her, the finality of the click breaking through the silence. She’s struck for a moment just how much they’ve aged since she’s known them. Since they were put in charge of Overwatch.

“What’s the news?” she asks, quietly.

“Haven’t you heard? We caught Doomfist.” Jack’s smile is more grim than anything else.

“What went wrong?”

Ana and Jack share a look. “What makes you think there’s something wrong?”

“I’m not an idiot,” she snaps, causing Ana’s eyebrows shoot towards her hairline. “If it had gone according to plan, you would be out celebrating with the rest of them.”

Ana sighs, and pushes back in her chair. “You’re right, Dr. Ziegler.” She pauses, searching for the words. “Shimada and Oxton were injured.”

Angela’s heart is gripped by fear in a way she didn’t think was possible. “Are they -?” She can’t bring herself to finish the question.

“They’re fine now,” Jack assures her, “but certainly worse for wear. Shimada’s suit was heavily damaged, and Oxton had her chronal accelerator ripped from her chest.

She gasps and presses her hands to her mouth.

“Winston was able to repair Oxton, and Torbjorn has been working on Shimada since they arrived four hours ago.” Ana looks over to the tablet Jack still holds. “He should be done by now.”

Angela runs from the room without another room. She doesn’t care how it looks, what Jack and Ana must think. She needs to see him, to assure herself he’s safe.

But when she skids to a stop, panting, outside Torbjorn’s workshop, there’s no one there. Not even Torbjorn, with the only evidence repairs had taken place are the scattered damaged plates she recognizes from Genji’s suit, the suit she helped design.

“Looking for someone?”

Gabriel’s voice cuts through her panic. She turns to see him standing in the shadow of the doorway. “What?”

“I’m assuming you’re looking for our resident cyborg ninja, but I wouldn’t bother.” His eyes gleam and something cruel passes across his face. She realizes she doesn’t know this Gabriel, not anymore. “He quit.”

“ _No_.”

A sneer works its way onto his face. “ _Yes_.”

She rushes to Genji’s room, even though she believes Gabriel, as much as she doesn’t want to believe him. She might not know him anymore, but she still trusts him to be honest with her, even if it’s brutal. She just needs to see Genji’s absence for herself.

Any lingering hope she had that he would stay is dashed when she throws open the door to his small quarters and sees it stripped bare of the little things Genji had. None of the hoodies or shirts he wears in the quiet of the night are in the closet, and the books that lined his shelves are gone.

She thought, well, she doesn’t know what she thought. She thought he would stay, and now she thinks he would’ve at least said goodbye. But maybe she always read too much into their interactions. Maybe she was just a friend to pass time with, and not one to trust, or rely on.

After rushing across the base, she walks slowly to her own rooms, fighting the tears that threaten to fall. She doesn’t even know why she wants to cry, except that it’s been a shock to her system on an already stressful day.

The door to her room opens as quietly as it always does, and she doesn’t even look up as she makes her way to her bed, looking forward to nothing except the sweet release of a dreamless sleep.

“Angela,” a voice murmurs from the depths of her bedroom.

Her eyes snap up, and she sees Genji, sitting at the foot of her bed. She can’t help but rush to him and throw her arms around him. It doesn’t escape her notice that he’s in his suit, and that he has a bag packed on the floor of her room.

He stiffens in her arms for a moment, before winding his own arms around her. She buries her face in the crook of his neck. “I thought you left without saying goodbye.”

“I couldn’t,” he pulls back and examines her closely, “but I am leaving.”

She chokes down the cries she feels in the back of her throat. “You don’t have to.”

Something hardens in his eyes. “I do. I’ve completed my mission here. It’s time to move on.”

“What mission?” she asks, sitting down heavily next to him on the bed.

He’s quiet for a beat or two. “Did you ever learn the details of how I came to be at Overwatch?”

“No.”

He gets up and walks to her window, which overlooks the mountains in the distance. There’s a light dusting of snow that’s barely visible, and he seems to be unable to tear his eyes away. “I was born into the Shimada clan, the most respected crime family in Japan. I was the second son, so I never had to worry about being responsible. That was always my older brother’s job. Hanzo’s job.”

She realizes what she’s about to hear, and wraps her arms around her knees as she pulls them to her chest. She won’t interrupt, as much as she may want to.

Clearing his throat, he turns to look at her again. “I wasted away my youth, caring more about women and having fun than anything else. I was an embarrassment to the elders of the family, but my father had a soft spot for me, and protected me. I reminded him of my mother. When he died, that protection ended.

“The elders approached my brother, and warned him that I needed to be taken care of. If he didn’t kill me, they would. My brother accepted the job. The last thing I remember before waking up is the cold look in his eyes as he pierced my chest with his blade.”

The gasp that rips out of her throat is involuntarily. This is so much worse than what she imagined. “Genji -”

But he won’t let her continue. “When I woke up here, I was sure I had died. And I was right. I was no longer a man, but a machine. But I had struck a deal with Reyes, that they would keep me alive as long as I helped take down the Shimada clan. As long as I tore down the people that had signed my death warrant.

“And I did. Every single last one of them. There’s no more clan to worry about thanks to me.”

“Your brother -”

“Left after he killed me. Unable to face what he had done, he ran.”

“But, you stayed, after.”

He turns back to look out the window. “Yes. I found a sense of purpose, something that quieted the screaming in my mind. I would fight, and pledge my blade instead of succumb to the demons in my mind. I,” he pauses, swallows, “made friends, friends that didn’t care what I had become. Friends that I could trust in battle. But the demons are still there, and I realized, fighting Doomfist, this isn’t enough anymore. I can’t pretend I’m still a man.”

She rises out of the bed. “But you  _ are _ -”

His voice is sharp as he cuts her off. “My heart needs help to pump. None of my limbs can operate on their own, and my skin is more synthetic than anything else. I can’t even look at my body without being disgusted. You have no idea what that feels like.”

She swallows, and closes her eyes. She knows the truth. “You’re right.”

“I need to go, Angela. I need to find some semblance of peace if I want to continue existing.”

“Okay,” she opens her eyes, lets the tears fall, “okay.”

His gaze softens as he looks at her. “I’ll write. I promise.”

“You better.” Her laugh is watery and sounds hollow to her own ears. “I won’t forgive you if you don’t.”

He tugs her to him for a long moment. “Thank you for understanding,” he whispers.

She closes her eyes and breaths him in, the barely-there metallic scent mixed with his own slightly sharp soap. In an unexpected move, he presses his lips to her forehead, the coolness of his bottom lip at odds with the warmth of his top one.

And then, like it never happened at all, he pulls back. She doesn’t open her eyes until she hears the door shut behind him. Then, she doesn’t bother trying to stop the flow of tears.

Overwatch isn’t the same anymore. The months that pass prove this. More and more agents leave, and the light in Reinhardt’s eyes seems almost gone. Everywhere she goes, she’s haunted by Genji’s ghost.

In the outside world, it doesn’t matter Doomfist has been caught. There’s mounting pressure from government agencies that want to shut down the organization, that point to the destruction in Singapore as proof they don’t function in this new world.

It breaks her heart to see the was Overwatch buckles down on secrecy instead of trying to resolve the obvious problems.

And then, one morning, she wakes up and realizes she hasn’t been really, truly happy in a very long time. She needs to see Jack.

He’s in his office when she slips in, the frown that seems perpetual on his face. She wonders when the last time he slept is.

He looks up when she approaches. “Dr. Ziegler. Is something the matter?”

“I can’t do this anymore, Jack.” She’s given a lot of thought to this, even if she didn’t realize it, and her resolve is unbreakable.

“Do what?” Jack turns his full attention to her, his face telling her he already knows the answer.

She presses her lips together tightly. “Be at Overwatch. Be part of an organization that doesn’t know what it wants to be anymore. It’s time.”

“You’d really go?” Jack asks her quietly, over steepled fingers.

His gaze is questioning, but not interrogative. She sighs. “I think deep down, you know as well as I do that Overwatch is no longer what it set out to be. I cannot, in good conscious, continue to be part of a paramilitary operation. Not when there are other people out there I could actually be helping.”

There’s a long moment of silence where he studies her before he breaks it. “I can’t change your mind, can I?”

She doesn’t blink. “No.”

His sigh is tired. She knows losing Gérard was hard on him, and the rift between him and Gabriel seems to be deepening by the day. She wishes she could take him with her, just as she knows he probably wishes he could make her stay. “Okay, Angela. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“Thank you, Jack.”

She feels like a weight has been lifted off her shoulders as she exits his office, just as guilt settles in her stomach. She’ll say her goodbyes, make sure her patients, the few that she has, are passed off correctly, and find a new place to live. An apartment of her own, maybe back in Geneva.

She’ll miss her friends, the family she’s found, and she’s sorry to leave them in times like these, but she can’t lie to herself anymore.

The apartment she finds is exactly what she needs. There’s enough space for her to feel comfortable when she’ll be there, and the rent is cheap enough that she won’t worry about losing it when she’ll be overseas, helping where she can.

She keeps her staff and suit, as well as some of the machines she patented through Overwatch. Then, she signs up with the U.N., to become a field medic. Her first missions are small, just two weeks spent in countries in South Asia, to help where she can and ensure there are more people alive than dead.

It’s difficult at first, and she relies on the video calls she makes with Torbjorn and Reinhardt perhaps more than she should. But it’s so good to see familiar faces, and to be kept in the know with Overwatch. Just because she left doesn’t mean she doesn’t care.

It’s through them she hears of Ana’s death. Her body was never recovered, but the accuracy of the sniper Jack describes leaves no hope. She attends the memorial service, and offers condolences where she can. Fareeha, no longer the small girl she remembers, welcomes the hug Angela offers with a taut face but dry eyes.

“Let me know if you need anything, okay?”

Fareeha gives her a tight smile. “Thank you, Angela. You were always my mother’s favorite.”

Angela bites back a laugh, reminded of the argument she and Ana had when Ana insisted using Angela’s technology in her rifle. She was sure they would never be friends again. “She didn’t love me more than she loved you.”

A dark shadow passes over the younger woman’s face. “Maybe.”

Jack is the next person she runs into. He looks like he’s aged five years instead of the five months it’s been since she last saw him. “Jack.”

“Angela.” He tugs her into a hug. “It’s good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, too,” she tells him honestly. “I’m just sorry it’s not under better circumstances.”

He frowns and looks back at the photo they have of Ana, years younger and laughing at the camera, propped up in the middle of the room. “Sometimes tragedy is all we have to bring us together.”

She bites at her lip, considering her next words. “I didn’t see Gabriel or Moira here.”

His face hardens. “Yeah, I didn’t either.”

Just when she thinks things can’t get any worse, it’s only months later the news of the explosion at the Overwatch headquarters rocks the world.

She’s visiting Torbjorn and his family when the news breaks, when Torbjorn is notified of the collapse of the agency that has been their lives for so long.

The details of the fall are terrible, a horrible thing that leaves her crying in the arms of Ingrid, who comforts her as Torbjorn tries to get into contact with whomever he can. They know where Reinhardt is, of course, but everyone else, everyone Angela loves, is scattered in the wind. She’s thankful in a way she never thought she would be, for leaving when she did. If she had stayed, she probably would’ve died, like so many others did.

Like Gabriel.

Like Jack.

In the aftermath of their fight that left the building destroyed, and both men, men who were once brothers, dead.

It’s not officially disbanded, but all operations have ceased. The United Nations have opened an official investigation, and soon, much too soon, she’s asked to testify.

She’s honest, but feels sick to her stomach as she’s asked to lay out exactly what happened in the years leading to the downfall, starting with Blackwatch’s incident in Italy, and ending with her departure. She tries to honor the memories of her friends, of the cause that she believed in for so long, but she can’t lie.

The verdict is passed, and Overwatch has been outlawed.

Reinhardt gives the eulogy at Jack's memorial, and it makes her cry. Memories of the good times flood her senses, and regret washes over her. Not for leaving, but for what Overwatch became. For what _they_ became.

The end of an era, and she can’t help but feel it’s partly because of her.

Genji's voice comes to her then, from the recesses of her mind. _This is not your fault_ , it whispers to her, reminiscent of all those years ago.

She wishes she believed it, but she wishes more he was here.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the angst but I think the fall of Overwatch would be very angsty, for Mercy in particular. She'd been there from the beginning, but saw the path they were on, and could do nothing to stop it. I can't imagine what being asked to testify would've done to her, and, unfortunately, we probably will never know in canon, since Blizzard has no interest in flushing out established facts, and instead uses new, flashy story lines in an effort to retain those of us that still play it.
> 
> Can you tell I'm bitter? I'm kind of bitter.


	6. The Start of Something New

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy holidays!

The letters come slowly. The first few are just quick notes about what he’s doing, wishing condolences for their fallen friends. She tries to write him back, but more often than not they are returned to sender. She worries as she rereads each one, searching for more meaning behind each line.

_I’ve made it to Algeria. I never thought I would see the world like this._

It’s a wonder that his letters seem to always reach her, no matter where she is. She tries to keep him updated of her whereabouts, but she has no real idea of how long the letters take to travel from one place to another. Perhaps she’s slower in her travels than he is. Which, in all honesty, seems likely. She has responsibilities to the people she’s helping that he’s not bound to. She wonders how she would take to a nomadic lifestyle very briefly, realizing quickly that she would feel restless without a purpose.

Still, his letters bring her some comfort, and she’s taken to carrying his most recent letter in her pocket, patting it when she’s particularly frustrated with the state of the world.

_It’s beautiful in Turkey this time of the year. I think you would enjoy it, though the coffee here can’t compare to yours._

It’s a couple of years of this, until his letters become longer and more frequent. It seems he’s made his way to Nepal, and he’s met an omnic monk there by the name of Zenyatta. There seems to be a peace that settles over him that is reflected in the way her writes after months in the monastery.

_I realize here that I can finally breathe, maybe for the first time in my life. I can feel my heart beating again. I wonder what you would say if you could see the way the monks live here._

She writes him back, _I’m so happy for you, Genji. I hope you’ve found what you’re looking for there._

His reply letter is thoughtful. _I’m on my way to that, I think._

More years pass like this, since she’s last seen his face. She occasionally hears from McCree and Sojourn, wherever they may be scattered in the wind. Lena and Winston she hears from more frequently, and learns Lena has taken up a form of vigilantism, under her Overwatch code name Tracer. She also learns the younger woman has started dating a woman named Emily, and that it’s serious. She ignores the brief pang in her chest and wishes them well with all her heart.

Of course, she spends the most time with Reinhardt and Torbjorn, the only remaining people from the glory days of Overwatch, it seems. At least, the only people she’s wanted to keep in touch with. Moira has accepted a position as the Minister of Science in Oasis, and Angela can honestly say she has no desire to see the woman who she found out was carrying on unethical practices in the dark recesses of Blackwatch. It made her sick when details came to light during the U.N. investigation.

Despite the different corners of the Earth her teammates may have ended up, she can sense the wistfulness that seems to strike them all at different times, striking Winston perhaps the most frequently and hardest of all. The days when they were united in the fight for the whole of humanity, instead of patching up the smaller wars where they can. It’s not really a surprise, then, when she receives the message from Winston.

The recall happens when she’s in Syria, tending to the wounded injured during the civil war which never really was resolved. Her first instinct is to write to Genji, which is what she does. She knows he’s in North America, visiting McCree as he does occasionally. It throws her, at first, writing down an unfamiliar address, but she's glad he's kept in touch with the one Blackwatch member he connected with.

Her letter must cross his, because she finds a letter for her in the mail pile the next day.

It’s short, much shorter than his previous letters have been. _Did you receive the call to arms from Winston?_

She decides to wait until he’s responded to her letter before she writes back. Of course she’s noticed the way the world seems to have been deteriorating, in all corners of the world, from Brazil to Russia to South Korea. Not only are the omnic forces coming back, but Talon seems to have grown, ever since Doomfist escaped, and a new threat called Reaper has appeared. More and more smaller agencies have been popping up to try and stop the flood of war where they can, but it’s clear to change the tides, a bigger task force is needed.

But that doesn’t mean she thinks Overwatch should come back. She remembers the descent and the eventual crash and burn of an agency she had truly loved. The years that have passed have lessened the pain from the loss of friends she considered family, but the pain is still there all the same. What's to say things will be different this time around?

Genji’s letter comes a few weeks later. _I have listened to his message again and again. I understand your hesitation, but perhaps answering the call requires more thought than the response of a gut reaction. I'm on my way to return to Nepal. I must discuss this with Zenyatta._

He’s right, of course, like he usually is. And it’s similar to the response she gets from Torbjorn and Reinhardt, when she gets ahold of them. Torbjorn has adopted a reformed Bastion unit, who apparently seems more interested in bird-watching than war.

“I think I’ll sit back on this one and watch where it heads,” he tells her gruffly, his face grainy over the video feed. “We know what happened last time.”

Reinhardt and Brigitte come in a little clearer when she talks to them next.

“I understand your reservations, but I’m a soldier, Angela,” Reinhardt says, his expression somewhere between acceptance and trepidation. “I’ll always answer the call.”

“And I go where Reinhardt goes.” Brigitte’s voice is strong and unwavering, and it makes Angela smile, how much she reminds her of her father.

“You’ve grown so much,” Angela murmurs.

Brigitte’s smile is bright. “Wait until you see what I can do with a suit of armor.”

It takes a few more months of deciding. She still has responsibilities to tend to, and it’s hard to make a decision about anything when she’s trying to stop children from bleeding out due to being caught in crossfire.

Eventually, it’s Genji that helps her make her mind up. The letter comes around Christmas, wrapped around a quill that she supposes is his version of a present. It makes her smile.

_I’m ready if you are._

And she realizes, she is.

There are more months to wrap up her obligations, to coordinate with Reinhardt and Brigitte, who want to meet up to prepare before facing Overwatch and Winston together. To repair and upgrade armor, to make sure they're in as good of shape as they can be. She feels a little bad, that they haven’t responded to Winston quite yet, but it’s not a decision that any of them could take lightly.

But, by the time spring rolls around, she’s terminated her contract with the U.N., with a promise that she can always come back if she needs to. She heads back to her apartment in Geneva, where everyone has decided to convene.

Genji’s letter reaches her the day she gets back. _I find myself more excited than I anticipated. I wonder if you look the same as you did the last time I saw you. I’ve missed you. I should be there in a week._

Her heart skips a beat as she reads the last line. It’s not the first time he’s alluded to his feelings, but it is the first time he’s been so explicit about it. She thinks maybe a week isn’t enough to prepare herself for whatever will come next, and she’s thankful Brigitte and Reinhardt won’t be there until next month. She still needs to banish the dust that's settled since she's last been there, and make sure her home base is as welcoming as can be, in an effort to make sure she's presentable to the man she feels tied to.

Brigitte and Reinhardt know they’re friends, but, to her, that doesn’t always feel like the right word. Not quite lovers, and yet that’s what he is more than anything else. She has no way of knowing for sure that that’s how he feels, but she has a good feeling about it. The letters they’ve shared have brought them closer, even if she hasn’t physically seen him since the night he left. She knows him better than anyone, and she knows it’s the same for him.

She doesn’t have much spare room in her little apartment, but her couch is a pull-out bed, for when she receives the occasional visit from Fareeha and one or two of the elder Lindholm children as they researched universities in the area. Not all of them wanted to be engineers, much to their father’s disappointment.

But hopefully Genji won’t mind sharing her bed. She’s not sure how he functions, sexually, but that’s not what she’s after, not really. She just wants to know what it's like to be held by him.

The night he appears on her balcony, she’s just finished brewing coffee and is gnawing on a broken nail nervously. She knows he should arrive any day, but still has no idea when that day is. The tapping on her sliding glass door, however, erases that uncertainty.

She feels like she jumps about a mile out of her skin as she whips around to see who’s there. He’s half in shadows, but she’d know that face anywhere.

“Genji,” she breathes, as she rushes to open the door.

“I’m sorry if I scared you.”

His voice is exactly how she remembers, and she finds her knees are wobbling a little bit. She moves back to the kitchen and grips the counter for support, willing her strength to come back. “You couldn’t use the door like a normal person?”

He huffs a laugh. “You need a code to get in, and I don’t know your number.”

She laughs, too. All these years, and something as simple as a phone number still hasn’t been exchanged between them. “Do you want coffee? It’s fresh.”

“Yes, please,” he says, as he steps beside her. “I’ve missed your coffee.”

They chat as she fills their cups, passing his to him with a smile. There’s something in his demeanor that seems like she’s almost talking with a different person, but his eyes are the same, as is his smile, and his laugh. He’s wearing jeans and a hoodie. She doesn’t remember the last time she saw him outside of a suit. She’s finding it hard to breathe.

“You seem,” her voice falters a little, after a lull in conversation, “you seem well, Genji.”

He gives her a soft smile, placing his coffee down on the counter beside him and extending his arms. “I am a different man now. I am whole.”

“I’m glad.” She returns his smile with one of her own, something like hope fluttering in her chest. “It’s nice to see you in person agan.”

“Yes, our correspondence seems to fall short of the real thing, I think.”

On impulse, she puts her coffee down, and throws her arms around him, burying her face in the crook of his neck, where his synthetic skin meets his natural. The cool metal of his jaw rests on top of her head as his own arms wind around her, holding her close. She feels safe and at home, things she hasn’t felt for months, years maybe. For some reason, she feels the need to cry.

It’s somehow made worse and better in turns by the gentle movement of his fingers through her hair. It’s messy and tangled, but the feeling of the knots being worked through has her eyes drifting shut. The thought that she should’ve taken more care of her appearance, but it disappears as quickly as it came. This is Genji, and she knows he doesn’t care what she looks like. It's enough to see her in person, the same she feels about him.

Finally, she pulls back to look at him more closely in the light, after she's confident she has a handle on her emotions. There’s a warmth in his eyes she’s only seen a handful of times, and his smile seems more genuine than it’s ever been. His hair is shaggier that she's seen it, and she wants to know how it feels between her fingers. But there's a question she wants to know first.

“Did you find what you were looking for, then? In Nepal?” she asks, sounding more breathless than she would like to.

“Almost, but not everything.”

Before she can ask what he’s missing, one of his hands goes to cup her chin, and, before she can fully register what’s going on, he’s pressing his lips to hers.

They’re how she remembers when they were pressed to her forehead, his bottom lip cooler than his top. Her heart seems to stop and restart again as time slows down. His scent, slightly metallic and that musky, masculine smell she remembers, fills her lungs, and she can’t help gripping at his shoulders, where her hands had landed when she pulled back from their hug. It’s a chaste kiss, just a press of lips together for a few moments, before he pulls back.

She opens her eyes slowly, meeting his eyes as she comes back to herself. He looks about as happy as she feels.

“Hi,” she whispers, arms winding around his neck, one hand going to his hair. It's just as soft as she imagined.

“Hi,” he whispers back, before he pulls her back in for another kiss.

This one is longer, though just as sweet, her lips catching in between his, tasting faintly like her coffee. It warms her all the way to her toes. In that moment she knows, no matter what the future holds, she can take it, as long as he’s right there with her. She's not letting him go ever again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue? No epilogue? What do you think?

**Author's Note:**

> So, I started this a year ago? Some of the stuff doesn't match up with the Overwatch lore anymore, but honestly? Idgaf.


End file.
